Lost and Found
by chunkeymonkey
Summary: You don't know what you have till it's gone. Trite, but true. DB, other characters will pop up as well.
1. Chapter 1

Betty glanced up at the clock on the wall, it hands indicating five past six. The offices were quiet; most had gone home for the day, off to enjoy their evening, but Betty was still at her desk. Daniel had told her to go home twenty minutes ago, but she was preoccupied, her dark eyes transfixed at a piece of paper in her hand. It was an internal office memo; a posting for a junior editor position open in beauty. Betty has received it the other day and it had been in the forefront of her mind ever since. Normally, it was not the type of job she would pursue—she didn't even know the difference between lipstick and lip _gloss_—but it was too good of a chance to pass up. Positions like this rarely opened up at _Mode_, and after a year of working hard as Daniel's assistant, she wanted to chance to move up the ranks; to prove she could be more than a glorified secretary. 

Even if she couldn't tell the difference between blush and bronzer.

But she would learn.

She looked up into Daniel's office; he was still there, leaning back in his chair, swiveling back and forth as he tossed a red foam football up into the air. It was obviously the perfect time to approach him—he wasn't even pretending to be busy—and she got up and walked to his office, rapping on the door lightly before opening it. The knock was soft enough that Daniel did not notice, and was quite startled when he heard Betty's voice.

"Daniel, are you busy?' She asked out of courtesy, knowing full well he was not.

Daniel snapped to attention; he looked like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar as the ball landed with a soft thud onto his desk. "Oh, Betty—it's just you." He sighed, relaxing instantly. He grabbed the ball and squeezed it. "I thought I sent you home already?" He asked, a tinge of embarrassment evident in his voice. "I needed a break from going over all these photographer's portfolios," He gestured to a stack of them on his desk. "And you just caught me in the middle of some stress relief." He squeezed the ball tighter. "See, great for stress relief."

"Yeah, goofing off is great for stress." Betty smiled, crossing her arms and giving him a teasing look.

"Yeah, yeah." Daniel tossed the ball aside and leaned forward. "So why are you still here?"

"There's something I've been wanting to talk to you about."

"Oh yeah?"

Betty felt a surge of nerves, but knew she couldn't chicken out. She had worked hard—she deserved a chance—and the worst thing he could do was say no. "I saw there was an opening for a junior editor," She took a step forward, brandishing the very memo. "And I wanted to be considered for it."

Daniel gingerly took the paper from her hand and began to read silently. "You want to leave me?"

Betty felt her insides melt. "I don't want to leave you Daniel. And I won't. I mean, I'll still be working with you at _Mode_—just in a different capacity. But I think it's time for me to move on."

"_To beauty?"_

Betty knew exactly what he was thinking, and she felt herself subconsciously smooth out her hair. "I know it's not my forte', but I'll learn."

Daniel didn't say anything and Betty soldiered on, undeterred.

'I know I've only been working here for a little over a year—and while I hate to toot my own horn—I think I have worked hard and shown that I am dedicated, loyal, and willing to do anything for this magazine." Betty took a deep breath and felt her cheeks begin to burn. She wasn't used to being so forward. "And I think I deserve a promotion."

"Consider your horn tooted." Daniel smirked, tossing the paper aside. "And consider the job yours."

"What? Really?" Betty squealed, failing to keep her composure. She felt like a giddy schoolgirl.

"I knew one day this would happen." Daniel stood up and made his way over to her. "That you wouldn't be happy just being my assistant anymore." He placed his hands lightly on her shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. "Truth is, as much as I hate to lose you, I'd hate it even more to hold you back." He smiled and squeezed her shoulder. "Plus, you have worked very hard—you deserve it."

Betty did her best to fight back the tears in her eyes and threw herself into Daniel, wrapping him up in a giant hug. "Thank you so much. You don't know what this means to me." As she felt his arms pull her in tighter, hugging her to him, she couldn't hold back any longer and felt the tears slide down her cheeks. "I won't let you down."

"I know you won't."

Author's Note: This is my first D/B or Ugly Betty fanfic ever! I hope you like! I kinda know where I am going with this, but not entirely sure. But will be D/B definitely. Will update when I can so stay tuned! Feedback appreciated but not necessary!


	2. Chapter 2

Daniel walked briskly through the main lobby of Meade publishing towards the front door. The premises were quiet and empty, save for the night security guard seated at the front desk, chatting amicably on the phone. He gave Daniel a sort of half wave, half salute as he passed by the desk and out the door to his waiting town car. When Daniel hopped in the back seat he saw his driver flipping through the latest issue of Mode with interest.

"Good evening Mr. Meade, are we heading home?" His driver asked, looking at him in the rearview mirror.

"Yeah, it's an early night for me." Daniel replied, slamming the door behind him. He checked his watch—it was only seven-fifteen. He had been planning to go out, but since he was not in the best of moods, he felt no desire to be social. He observed as the driver tossed the magazine onto the passenger seat. "I didn't know you read Mode?"

"No offense sir, but I don't." He chuckled, starting the car and moving out into the lane. "I picked it up for my girlfriend. I was just flipping through it."

"I see."

"She'll be glad to know the hobo look is still in."

"You mean _boho_ look."

"Yes. That's right."

Daniel chuckled silently as he settled in for the ride. _"The hobo look_." He thought, shaking his head. _"That's sounds like something Betty would say._" He could only imagine though, that's probably what most of the staffers—especially Amanda—thought of Betty's look anyways. But he didn't mind the eclectic ensembles and bordering on orthopedic shoes—in fact, he found it rather endearing. Besides, her look _had_ toned down a lot over the past year. Not a poncho had been seen in quite sometime.

"_The past year,_" He mused, watching the city lights pass by in a blur out his tinted window. _"I can't believe Betty's been working for me for a year now."_ In fact, to Daniel it felt like time before Betty didn't exist, like she was always just _there; _to realize that she hadn't somehow felt strange and unnatural. _"And now…_" His mind wandered off, unable to complete the thought that was so unpleasant to him and had put him in such a bad mood.

He sighed deeply and felt his body shift to the right, pressing into the seat as the car rounded a corner. _"She won't be working for me. Betty's leaving._" He knew of course, she wasn't really leaving, she was just moving to another position in the company, but somehow that bothered him more than if she really was leaving. The many times she had left in the past were okay, because there was always the possibility that she would come back—and she always did. Back to her desk where she belonged, right back to being his assistant.

But this was different.

When Betty left his office over an hour ago, floating on cloud nine, he tried to tell himself the reason he wasn't as happy was fear of change, or the proposition of having to hire another assistant—but he knew the truth.

He would simply miss her.

Yes, she would still be there, but not really _there._ Not where Daniel wanted her, not where he _needed_ her. No longer would Daniel have the comfort of glancing up and seeing she was there, hard at work. No more popping into his office to see if he needed anything, and no more short walks to her desk to chat. No more of her bright smiles and cheery good mornings as she handed him his coffee and bagel.

"_Hmmph. I should give up carbs anyway."_ Daniel muttered to himself, feeling his mood sour even further. He knew he was being selfish, like a petulant child who didn't want to share his toy. Not that Betty was his—but still. It was just something he would have to get used to; after all, assistants came and went, and he really didn't expect Betty to be his forever.

No, he would find another assistant, and Betty would excel at being at being a junior beauty editor, and everything would be great. He smiled with forced optimism. "_Everything will be alright. Having Betty at Mode is all that matters."_ Daniel assured himself.

He just wished he could fully believe it.


	3. Chapter 3

"Betty you better hurry up or you're going to be late! And you'll miss my pancakes!" Hilda's voice rang out from the bottom of the stairs, traveling through the open bedroom door as Betty threw on a sweater and ripped the pink curlers from her bangs.

"Betty!"

"I hear you Hilda! I'll be right there!" She roared back, racing around her room nervously. The last week had passed so fast, and she could hardly believe that today she would no longer be going to work as Daniel's assistant, but as a new junior editor. It was as nerve wracking and as exciting as her first day ever at _Mode_. She grabbed her purse and checked the clock on her nightstand—just enough time to grab a quick breakfast—before flying down the stairs two at a time. "See, told you I was coming."

As Betty brushed past Hilda she felt her hand reach out and grab her sleeve. "You are gonna wear _that _to work?" Hilda pointed with the spatula in her hand at the bright blue and white striped rayon dress, black hose, red boots, and oversize red cable-knit sweater Betty was wearing.

"Yeah. What's wrong with it?" She asked, giving herself a once over. "Since when do you care what I wear? I wore this last week and you didn't have a problem with it then."

"Yeah, but last week you weren't a beauty editor."

"_Junior _beauty editor."

"Yeah, yeah." Hilda said, shaking her head. "I just think that it's time to step it up, ya know? You could get away with wearing that when you were just Daniel's assistant, but you're in the big leagues now!"

Betty laughed, heading off through the living room towards the kitchen. "I hardly think this qualifies as the big leagues."

"Come on Betty," Hilda chirped excitedly as she followed her. "You're an editor now and you should look like an _editor._"

_"Junior_—"

"Besides," Hilda interrupted. "This can only be a stepping stone to bigger things, and bigger things aren't achieved by looking sloppy and unprofessional." She quickened her pace to run up in front of her. "And for God sakes," She reached up, aiming for her face. Betty flinched as Hilda flattened her bangs, which had been stuck straight up in the air. "You could poke someone's eyes out with those things!"

"Thanks." Betty said hastily and continued on, pausing to give her father, Ignacio, a kiss on the cheek as she made her way to the fridge. "Morning Papi."

"Morning Betty." Ignacio greeted from behind his newspaper.

"Hilda," Betty continued, rummaging through the fridge. "I think I look nice."

"Yeah, but will all the beauty editors you're gonna work with think that too? I mean, will they take you seriously?"

"As long as I do my job well they will," She slammed the fridge door shut behind her with her hip, her arms full of a jug of milk and a plate of leftover empanadas. "No matter what I look wear. I mean, _Albert Einstein_ went around with crazy, frizzy hair and no one ever called _him_ unprofessional or sloppy."

"Well, he was a freakin genius. I think he could get away with it."

Betty pulled a glass out of the cupboard and sat down at the table. "Hilda, I appreciate your concern—I know it's well meant—but I don't need to change to be successful."

"No," Hilda said, scraping at the burnt remnants of a pancake that had seared to the pan."God knows I would never want you to become some trend obsessed _Mode _girl. But I just think that you would look nice in something that says _junior editor_ instead of _assistant._" She waved her spatula in the air with gusto. "That's all. Like a professional suit—something pinstripe maybe. Oooh, with heels! Something classy." She beamed, dumping the charred crumbs into the trash.

"Classy?' Another voice chimed in. "What do you know about being classy?" Justin joked as he rounded the corner, eyeing his mother's short skirt and tight blouse.

Hilda deftly swatted him on the back of the head with the spatula as he sat down at the kitchen table and struck an indignant pose as she watched Betty pour herself a glass of milk and take a bite out of a cold empanada. "Betty, I made breakfast! If you won't take my advice, the least you can do is eat my pancakes!"

"Sowwry." Betty mumbled through a mouth full of food.

"Oh, today is your first day as a beauty editor, isn't it?" Justin asked, poking at the slightly charred pancake on his plate with hesitation.

"Yep." Betty beamed, taking a swig of milk with pride. "Junior editor."

"Do you get free samples?" He asked excitedly, his eyes sparkling. "Because if you do, I would die for some Kiehl's lip balm and anything from La Mer would be amazing!" He pushed his plate aside and reached for one of Betty's empanadas and Hilda threw her hands up in frustration. "Oh and hair products would be great—mousse not gel. And if you ever get anything from this new organic line called—"

"Justin!" Betty cut him off, exasperated. "Hold on, you're getting ahead of yourself. Let's see if I don't get fired first, then we'll talk freebies, okay?"

Justin looked deflated, but nodded in agreement.

Ignacio looked up from his newspaper. "I'm sure you'll do great _mia_."

"Thanks." Betty blushed. "Oh no!" She blurted suddenly, dropping the rest of her breakfast to the plate with a thud as she looked at the clock on the wall. "I should have left five minutes ago!" She scrambled to her feet and bolted for the door, grabbing her coat off the chair and swinging her purse wildly around her shoulder. "Wish me luck!"

"Good luck!" The three chorused from the kitchen as the door slammed behind her and she took off running towards the subway station.


	4. Chapter 4

"Mode, Daniel Meade's office—hold please." Daniel was bent down over Betty's old desk, the phone clenched between his ear and his shoulder, one hand holding a stack of papers and his morning coffee at a precarious angle, while the other hit button after button, each line blinking red with waiting calls. "Mode, Daniel Meade's office—hold please." He answered frantically, taking his voice up a pitch to disguise the embarrassing fact that he was doing his assistants job. "Mode, Daniel Meade's office—hold please." He now regretted waiting to go through the stack of applications on his desk for a new assistant. Even though he knew today Betty was starting her new job, and that he had had all of last week to find a new assistant, half of him had thought maybe—just maybe—she would change her mind. But she didn't, and now he was stuck juggling the phones when everyone was waiting for him in the morning staff meeting.

Just as Daniel was about to reach for another blinking light he heard the click of heels behind him and looked over his shoulder to see Amanda. "Are you coming in to start anytime soon? Fifteen minutes late and the natives get restless. Wilhelmina already muttered something about mutiny and took off."

"Come here for a minute," Daniel gestured. "I need you."

Amanda strutted over to him and leaned up against the desk, bending over just enough to highlight her low cut neckline. "You do Daniel?" She purred. "You _need _me?"

"Yeah," He nodded, shoving the phone into her hand. "The phones have been ringing off the hook. Answer them, take messages, and tell them I'll get back to them, okay?"

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Where's Betty?" She whined. "Why do I have to do _her_ job?"

"Betty's busy." Daniel stated matter-of-factly as he walked towards the conference room. At that moment he felt an odd sort of emptiness rise up within him, and as he walked into the meeting he hoped to see Betty in the crowd. But as he looked around the large, round table she was nowhere to be seen. "Okay, good morning." Daniel called out above the chatter. He saw several people cast him annoyed looks, and one made a point to tap her watch with her fingernail. "Sorry I'm late." He apologized, spreading his things in front of him on the table. "I had a very hectic morning, and I know we've all got lots of work to do, so I'll keep this brief."

"Maybe if Betty did her job the meeting would have started _on time."_ Amanda sniped, breezing in past Daniel, handing him a stack of post it notes.

Daniel shoved the notes into his pocket. "Actually, about Betty. I wanted to announce to everyone that Betty has moved on—"

Amanda plopped into a seat next to Marc and the two gaped at each other, their eyes and smiles wide with glee. "Oh my prayers to the fashion gods have finally been answered!" Marc whispered, eliciting a snort of appreciation from her.

Daniel shot them an icy glare which silenced them. "She has moved on to a _better position_ at Mode. She is a new junior beauty editor."

There were a few stunned faces in the crowd, Amanda and Marc looked especially incredulous, but for the most part there was little reaction to the news.

"Betty—b-b-beauty editor?" Amanda stuttered.

"Go Betty! Woo!" A heavy, Scottish brogue rang out from the back of the room. A few people turned to stare at Christina perched in the windowsill. "Sorry, excitement got the better of me."

"I applied for that position." Amanda pouted, casting Daniel a scathing look. "How come I didn't get it? I obviously know a lot more about beauty than _Betty_."

"Well, Christina piped up. "Betty's worked her arse off for a year while you've been sitting at the front desk, shopping for Jimmy Choo's on the internet."

A chorus of muffled snickers erupted around the room and Amanda scoffed

"Oh, and there's the fact that Betty is intelligent, loyal and educated."

'I'm educated!"

"I highly doubt that university hands out diplomas for binge drinking and sleeping around."

Amanda opened her mouth to argue, but Marc shrugged his shoulders as if to say _she has a point_ and she quickly conceded.

"Ladies," Daniel warned sternly. "Enough. I hired Betty for the position because she was the best for the job. End of story." Daniel began flipping through the pages spread in front of him. "And on a related note, I will soon be hiring another assistant."

Amanda raised her hand eagerly. "Oooh!"

"And I am currently accepting applications from anyone—"

"Oooh!"

"_Except _Amanda."

Amanda shrunk back in her chair and Daniel continued, unabated. "Alright, let's get on with this. How is the Dior shoot progressing? Have we got a photographer yet?"

"Alexandre' is booked." A man at the far end of the table answered.

"Okay, and the spring fling makeover feature?"

"It's been flung." A woman answered happily from across the room, scribbling something in a binder.

Daniel raised his eyebrows.

"Meaning it's done."

"Okay, great." Daniel shuffled through his papers, picking one up to study closer. "And the interview with Sienna Miller for her upcoming film?"

"Her publicist called yesterday, and I'm meeting her at the Waldorf this afternoon for lunch." A smartly dressed woman answered, her eyes still glued to her Blackberry.

"Great." Daniel smiled. "And we all know next month we are hosting the American launch party for Agent Provocateur's newest fragrance _Lujuria. _I need to know where we are on things?"

A woman scurried up to him and handed him a file folder which Daniel flipped through. "We've got the location secured," She said, pointing to a group of photos clipped together. "I took a few Polaroid's, but I emailed you better quality shots. Its' a great, open, modern space. The models have been booked, the guest list has been finalized, and invites are being sent out today. The caterer is booked and entertainment is still being worked on."

"Thank you." The woman nodded and scurried away. "Looks like we are all set. I think I'll wrap this up—have a great day." Daniel gathered his things and headed for the door. He headed to his office and shut the door behind him, catching sight of the monstrous pile of applications on his desk. He picked one off the top and skimmed through it; the person sounded more than qualified, but his heart wasn't in it. It was still strange for him, to be replacing Betty. Not that he thought she could ever be replaced.

_"She's not going to change her mind—so get over it._" He scolded himself, and picked up another application. After a few minutes of reading through a few of them he cast the lot aside and picked up the phone, dialing the cell phone of the only person that could cheer him up.

"Hey Betty, its Daniel." He spoke into her voicemail. "I know you're probably busy, but I just wanted to call and see how your first day was going—not to mention to wish you luck." He paused for a moment, wondering why this felt so weird and why there seemed to be a giant lump in his throat. "I was just thinking I could take you out for lunch, ya know, to celebrate." Suddenly the phone cut him off and there was nothing but the drone of dial tone in his ear.


	5. Chapter 5

Betty walked slowly around the corner into a brightly lit room. It was a small area filled with desks, boxes from companies with foreign, expensive sounding names piled here and there, and multitudes of clippings from past issues of Mode mixed in with candid snapshots from fashion shows that made up a haphazard collage on the walls. Two well dressed woman and one slick looking man glanced up briefly from their computers as Betty entered, giving her a once over before sniffing disapprovingly and ducking back down to continue clacking on their keyboards.

"Betty Suarez?" A woman's voice asked behind her, and Betty spun around to see a petite, red headed women staring at her over the rims of her tortoise shell glasses. She looked familiar and Betty knew she had seen her before in the morning meetings, scribbling into a notepad quietly in the back of the room.

"That's me." Betty answered, her voice cracking with nervous energy. She stuck out her hand and eagerly shook the delicate hand of the woman who obviously didn't know what to make of her.

"I hear you're the new junior editor. Nice to meet you." She said, looking her up and down with a peculiar smile. "My name is Simone, I'm the Beauty director."

"Oh it's great to meet you to." Betty beamed. "I just want to say that I'm so excited about this opportunity and I can't wait to get started."

"Wonderful." Simone nodded, striding toward the back of the room and motioning for Betty to follow. "You won't have to wait too long. I actually really need you to get on something for me today. Normally, it's something I'd have one of my more senior editors cover, but we're swamped and you _did_ come highly recommended."

"Oh of course—anything." Betty gulped nervously and followed her, stopping as Simone paused in front of a large door on the other side of the room.

"I need you to go on an assignment this afternoon," Simone continued, taking a small key out of her pocket. "I'm sorry I can't show you around properly, but today's been kind of crazy. Anyways, I need you to write up a small review on an organic makeup line that just opened its flagship store in the village— Organique. I need you to swing by there about one o'clock to meet with a woman named Marina." She stuck the key in the lock of the door and turned the handle slowly. "But first I want you to get familiar with their products."

Simone opened the door to reveal a room that rivaled the wonder of the Willy Wonka factory. Except it was a river of cosmetics instead of chocolate. Frankly, Betty would have preferred chocolate. "Wow, what is this place?' Betty gasped, taking it all in. She felt as if she had truly stepped into another world. And she thought the closet was an intimidating place.

"It's the beauty department's version of the closet. " Simone sighed. "A virtual treasure trove of every beauty item known to man, here for our disposal. Most of it is sent to us in hopes of being mentioned in the magazine, and a lot of it is for shoots." Simone whipped out another key from her pocket, one on a long black cord, and hung it around Betty's neck. "We keep this place locked—if not, things have a way or walking out of here if ya know what I mean."

"Oh, of course."

"And this," Simone led Betty to a large white expanse of marble topped table in front of a brightly lit mirror. "This is the line." She pointed to a grouping of brown boxes made of recycled paper with gold script lettering that read _Organique_. "This is their press release and everything you need to know about the company should be in here." She handed Betty a file of papers. "And feel free to open, smell, use, whatever—the products. And I'll see you later."

Simone turned and left, leaving Betty alone to stare in amazement at the table before her. It was spread with jars of every size and shape, filled with every kind of lotion and potion imaginable. Makeup palettes filled with dazzling colors, tube after tube of lipstick, fluffy brushes and sponges, and something Betty couldn't quite figure out, all mingled together. "What is this?" Betty mused out loud, twirling the small metal contraption in her fingers.

"It's an eyelash curler." A voice giggled behind her, and Betty looked up in the mirror to see Christina poking her head in the door. She came up behind her and reached for an elaborately carved perfume bottle, sniffing its end before spritzing it into the air.

"You mean one actually puts this near their _eye_?" Betty groaned. "What if something goes wrong?' What if there's an earthquake? Ouch!" She tossed it aside and opened up one of the_ Organique _brown boxes to reveal a makeup palette full of bright colors.

"That's' the price women pay for beauty." Christina laughed, spraying another scent into the air. "Besides, this is New York. We don't get earthquakes here." Christina opened the lid of a giant jar of crème and began rubbing a glob of it on her hands. "I just came to see how your first day was going," She paused, eyeing the room. "God—I haven't been in this room in years. _One_ teensy tinsy jar of La Mer goes missing and they lock the damn place up." She slammed the jar back down, a guilty look in her eyes.

"I don't know what I've gotten myself into." Betty moaned, tapping a small brush full of blue shadow underneath her glasses onto her eyelids. "I barely know what any of this stuff is. Maybe I can't do this."

"Bullocks!" Christina assured her. "Sure you can. No woman knows anything about this stuff right off the bat—it's all learned. You're just learning a bit later is all."

"I'll have to learn pretty fast. They want me to review this makeup line this afternoon." Betty flashed the palette to Christina as she took a swoop of pink gloss from it with her pinkie and smeared it across her lips.

"No problem Betty, just ask a lot of questions and you'll be fine." Christina reached for a third fragrance, spraying it in the air. "We'll go out for drinks this week and we'll have a beauty cram session, okay?"

Betty nodded and smiled, opening a second brown box. "Sounds great!" She reached for a big, fluffy brush and dipped it into the pot of bright pink blush that was inside. "That would really help me out." She sucked in her cheekbones and fluffed the brush onto her face, leaving her cheeks stained a vivid hue.

"My God, it smells like a French whore in here!"

Christina and Betty spun around at the sound of Amanda's voice, and saw her and Marc appear in the doorway.

"Holy mother of mascara!" Marc gasped. "Betty in the _beauty _closet? Hurry up and get out before you cause the universe to implode!"

"I know, it's just so wrong." Amanda leaned against the door frame. "Betty the _beauty_ editor is like the biggest oxymoron!"

"And you two _would_ know about morons." Christina muttered, crossing her arms with disdain.

Amanda pursed her lips and did her best to ignore the comment. "Come on Marc," She sniffed. They both turned on their heels and as they walked out Amanda called over her shoulder. "Oh, and Betty—Bozo the clown called. He wants his look back."

Betty looked up into the mirror; her face was covered with obscenely bright splotches of color that did make her look quite clownish. "See Christina, I don't know if this is for me."

"Ah, don't let the terrible two get you down. You can do anything you set your mind—" Christina stopped as she turned back around and saw the colorful mess on Betty's face. "Well, you can always extol the virtues of the natural look." She laughed and handed Betty a tissue.

"Thanks." Betty laughed in return, wiping the makeup from her face. "I'm holding you to that cram session. This Friday maybe?"

"Friday it is."


	6. Chapter 6

"…and I consider myself a self starter, able to anticipate what you need before you ask. I am a hard worker and will make this job my number one priority. Oh, and I love Mode. I have been a huge fan of the magazine since I was younger, and I consider it an honor to be considered for this position."

"Uh huh." Daniel nodded absently, his gaze focused on the pencil he was twirling in his fingers. "How many was that?"

"Three, or maybe four. I can go on if you'd like?"

"No, that's quite alright." Daniel shook his head and picked up her resume off the desk before him. He had asked the young woman who was seated across from him to list five reasons why he should consider her for his assistant. But, as unfair as it was, he had been zoned out during most of it.

"And where did you go to school again?"

"NYU. It's right there in the resume," The young woman leaned forward, tapping the edge of the paper in his hand. "Major in journalism, editor on the school paper, Dean's list, four years of summer internships at Marie Claire."

Daniel studied the face of the eager applicant; she was a pretty girl—very attractive actually—and in the past that's all Daniel would have needed in order to offer her the job. But despite her good looks and her obvious qualifications, he couldn't bring himself to offer her the job. "Okay, well great. Thanks for coming in and I'll get back to you later."

The girl looked crestfallen; it was a look Daniel had become used to seeing that day after a few hours of interviewing potential replacements, and dismissing each and every one with an _"I'll get back to you later_." When in reality, he had no such intention.

"Alright, well thank you for seeing me." The woman smiled, standing up and reaching her hand towards his. "I'll wait to hear from you." She shook his hand graciously, even though she was plainly aware she was being given the brush off. Not a moment later Alexis came around the corner, watching as the young girl walked away.

"So, how are the interviews going?" She asked, perching herself on the arm of the sofa.

"Oh, ya know." Daniel fumbled with the stack of resumes in front of him. "They're going great." He lied. Truth be told, he had no plans to do interviews today, but his sister had gone behind his back and scheduled his morning full of them, much to his chagrin.

_"You need to get your butt into gear Danny and hire a new assistant pronto."_ She had told him the other day after she had witnessed him grabbing any staffer that passed by to answer the phone or run a stray errand for him. _"Two designers have already called to complain that they can't get through to you, and one photographer said someone from a Vinnie's pizza answered your phone!" _

Daniel smiled to himself, that pizza delivery boy sure didn't know what he had gotten himself into.

"Is it really?" Alexis asked skeptically. "If it's going so great, why did you let another one go?"

"How do you know that I didn't—"

"Because," Alexis interrupted. "I've seen that same disappointed look on every single one of them that's come out of your office this morning." She crossed her arms and gave him an intimidating older brother-now-sister look. "I know you haven't offered a single one of them the job, even though anyone of them would have made a fine choice. What's keeping you from making a decision? Unless," She smirked at him. "You like having your office in complete chaos?"

"No, I just want to make sure I pick the right person. That takes time." Daniel replied, but he knew it was complete bull. He already knew who the right person was, and he had finally made a decision that he would do anything to get her to come back. He would offer her whatever she wanted—more money, a better title, anything. Alexis arched her eyebrows, unconvinced. At that moment, something flashed in her eyes and Daniel wondered if maybe she suspected the real reason he was so hesitant to hire someone. At any rate, he was thankful she couldn't read his mind. "Don't worry, I'll have someone in here by the end of the week. I promise." Daniel smiled, hoping that someone would be Betty.

Alexis still looked doubtful, but his words seemed to placate her, and she got up and left.

Suddenly Daniel felt a vibration shoot through his hip and pulled his cell phone from his pocket, smiling when he saw the name _Betty _on his caller Id. 


	7. Chapter 7

In the time since Betty left, Daniel had concocted an elaborate scenario in his head. A fantasy where Betty came to him, miserable—as miserable as he had been since she'd left—and confessed she'd made a terrible mistake and beg to come back. But from the moment Daniel saw Betty that afternoon, weaving towards him through the crowd outside Meade Publications, he knew his fantasy was just that—a _fantasy_.

Seeing the look on her face, how she was beaming as bright as the sun above, how her eyes twinkled, told him all he needed to know—all that he had been afraid to find out.

That she was happy.

Unless she was exceptionally good at masking her feelings, being a junior editor was clearly suiting her, as much as he hated to admit it. And though this did not deter him, he realized it was going to make it that much harder to get her to come back. If he ever worked up the guts to ask her.

"Hey stranger." Daniel greeted her, motioning towards his town car that was idling by the curb. "This is your celebratory lunch, so you get to pick the place. Cesaro's? G Bistro? That new French place down on fifth?"

"Well," Betty smiled sheepishly, pointing in the opposite direction towards a hotdog cart on the corner of the street. "I was thinking since the weather is so nice." She shrugged, sounding a bit embarrassed.

Daniel raised his eyebrows.

"Plus you would not believe the craving I have—extra mustard and relish. Yum."

Daniel let out a chuckle and shook his head. Here he was ready to treat her to any of the fanciest, five star restaurants the city had to offer, and she wanted to hit up a greasy hotdog cart. "Well, it's your lunch—so hotdogs it is." Daniel waved to his driver, who was watching from the street, signaling him to go, and the two of them began walking down the street. "I'm glad you finally called me back. I wanted to go out and celebrate with Mode's newest junior editor!" Daniel forced a smile; he felt odd, almost two-faced, to be acting excited, when all the time he was formulating how he was going to ask her to come back.

"Sorry," Betty grimaced, looking ashamed. "I would have called you back right away, but things have been pretty hectic."

"Oh really?" Daniel asked, wondering if it was a good or a bad thing.

"Yeah." Betty nodded. "My first day and I was already sent off to review this new makeup store in the village. Simone said they normally don't send junior editors on such important assignments, but I came highly recommended." Betty playfully poked him in the ribs, her smile growing even wider. "Thanks for that." Betty blushed.

"No problem, you've earned it." Daniel replied quietly as they came to a stop in front of the hotdog cart.

"What you'll have?" The vendor asked gruffly.

"Two hotdogs—one plain, one extra mustard and relish, and two sodas." Daniel ordered, waving off Betty as she reached for her purse. "Your lunch, remember? My treat." The man handed them their food and they continued walking. "So Simone sent you on some assignment?" Daniel prodded, curious to hear more.

"Yeah." Betty continued. "I was pretty nervous at first, I mean I don't exactly know much about makeup, and the woman I met with was kinda rude, and her English was terrible—but I just rolled with the punches, asked a lot of questions like Christina suggested, and I think I pulled it off." The two came to a stop in a quiet corner of the street and leaned up against the brick wall of a building that had been plastered with ads for Mode magazine. "Plus, I got a ton of freebies, which sent Justin over the moon!" Betty giggled, peeling back the foil from her hotdog and taking a bite. "So I've been working on that, getting to know everyone and stuff. Oh, and learning my blush from my bronzer!"

"I see. Well, that blush and bronzer thing will keep one pretty busy." Daniel teased. "So, it's going well then? I mean, are you happy?" He asked, trying to mask the apprehension in his voice as his eyes searched hers intently.

"Definitely!" Betty beamed, her eyes lighting up. The happiness in her eyes was in stark contrast to the sadness in his; a sadness that, in the wake of her own enthusiasm, went unnoticed. "Well, the first day was scary—the beauty closet alone had me terrified! But I'm always up for a challenge, and so far everything's been going really well!"

"That's great." Daniel mumbled, pulling back the foil of his hotdog. His mind was going a million miles a minute, thinking of how he was going to ask her. The last thing he wanted to do was eat, and he began methodically tearing bits of his bun. He knew it was silly to be this nervous, he scolded himself. But the fact was, he wasn't nervous to _ask _the question, but to hear the answer. More specifically, to hear the word _no_. Something that now seemed like a cold, hard reality given her apparent happiness.

"What did that hotdog ever do to you?" Betty asked a few minutes later, noticing the decimated bun clutched in his hand and the trail of crumbs at his feet. "Did your mother ever tell you it's not polite to play with your food?" She laughed.

"No, but she did impart this bit of wisdom—_beer before liquor, never been sicker_." He grumbled, crumpling the rest of his food into a ball and pitching it into the nearest trash can. For the first time he suspected that Betty saw the unhappiness in his eyes as she studied his face for a few moments before he turned to look the other way.

"Have you hired a replacement yet?" She asked cautiously.

Suddenly Daniel knew he had his opening, he had to ask her now. He felt a surge of confidence and turned to face her. "Betty, I, I—" Daniel started, determined. But as soon as it came, his confidence faded, replaced by a gnawing sense of guilt. Daniel felt ashamed. He had been so busy being miserable that he hadn't stopped to think what a terrible position he was going to put Betty in. He was about to ask her to take a major step back from her dream simply to make him happy, and he couldn't help but feel like a selfish jerk. "—I haven't. Hired anyone, that is." Daniel let out a long breath; he just couldn't do it.

"I see how it is." Betty giggled. "I'm irreplaceable."

Daniel did his best not to frown. He had been thinking the same thing.


	8. Chapter 8

Daniel glanced out of the darkened window as he gathered his things, ready to leave for the night. The end of the week had come in the blink of an eye, even if it had felt like the longest week of his life. Unable to get Betty to come back—or rather, unable to even utter the words—he was still without an assistant, though he eventually cracked and had made Amanda Betty's temporary replacement, with an added emphasis on _temporary_.

"You can go now Amanda." He spoke into the intercom, and Amanda, who was busy filing away at her nails, looked up and smiled at him through the oval window.

"Sure thing Daniel. Anything else you need before I go?" She asked, although she had already grabbed her purse and put on her coat in anticipation of leaving.

"No." Daniel answered. "Have a nice weekend."

And with that Amanda was off in a blur. She had prattled on endlessly the whole day about the hot date she had tonight, and she wasn't the only one. Daniel had a date tonight as well, even if he wasn't in such a hurry to rush off like she was. He had been set up with some model by his friend Becks, but given his mood he would have rather gone home to lounge on the couch then head off to some club, even if a date set up by Becks meant a gorgeous girl and a guaranteed good time.

"I didn't know you ended up hiring Amanda as your assistant?" Alexis appeared in the doorway, dressed to the nines in a glittering gold mini dress. "How's that working for you?" She smirked.

Daniel bent down to pull a fresh dress shirt from the bottom drawer of his desk. "Oh she's just temporary until I can find," Daniel stopped, knowing he had been caught, and clumsily changed the subject. "Wow, what a great dress. Is that Moschino? That was in the last issue, wasn't it?" He babbled, tearing open the cellophane wrapper around the shirt.

Alexis raised a critical eyebrow and sat down on the couch; she crossed her arms and leaned back, eyeing him suspiciously as he changed his shirt. "I have a date if you must know. And you _still _haven't hired a new assistant yet?" She sighed, shaking her head. "I thought you said you would have someone in here in a week—week's up Danny."

"I know, I know." Daniel muttered, misting himself lightly with a bottle of cologne. "I haven't found the right person yet. I am waiting for the right person." He opened another drawer and pulled out a fresh tie, color coordinated to his shirt.

"This is about Betty isn't it?"

"What?" Daniel exclaimed, feeling his heart skip a beat although he wasn't sure why. "What do you mean?"

"Betty is a smart girl, she doesn't need a safety net." Alexis said, as if she had been reading his thoughts.

"Well, I guess I wanted to give her a window to come back." He admitted sheepishly, realizing that Alexis knew him better than he realized. "In case she thought she had made a mistake." Daniel shifted uncomfortably, feeling her eyes bore into him. He only hoped Alexis didn't suspect he had been ready to beg Betty to come back.

The odd flash he had seen in her eyes a few days before had returned. "That's not the only reason though, is it? Why you haven't replaced her?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Daniel fumbled with his tie; his attempt to knot it was unsuccessful, leaving it lying like a limp rag around his neck. He looked over to Alexis, his eyes pleading for help, and without having to say a word she came over to him.

"I was always better at this than you." She smiled, taking the tie into her hands and fixing it effortlessly.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now will you tell me what's really going on?"

Daniel sighed. "I told you Alexis. I was waiting on Betty as a courtesy, and now that I know she is happy I will hire someone right away." He lied, turning his eyes away. "I promise."

Alexis took a step back. "Daniel," She said, her tone serious. "I've only been a woman for a short time, but I think I've got a handle on this whole woman's intuition thing. I've never seen you act this way over an assistant."

"Betty's a friend, I want the best for her. "Daniel interrupted; he wasn't sure where she was heading, but for some reason he felt strangely defensive.

"Your assistants come and go," Alexis continued on, unfazed. "Usually after you sleep with them." She rolled her eyes. "But the _one _assistant you don't sleep with leaves and your whole world falls apart."

"I would hardly say that's the case." Daniel threw on his suit jacket that had been hanging on the back of his chair and adjusted the collar and cuffs, looking at his reflection in the window. "Now if you don't mind, I have a date." He began to head for the door when Alexis stepped in his path, blocking him.

"You have feelings for her, don't you?"

"What? _Who_?"

"Betty."

"That's crazy." Daniel shook his head and stepped around her. The room suddenly felt a million degrees warmer and he loosened his tie and popped open the buttons of his shirt collar.

"Is it?" Alexis argued, charging after him. She reached out to grab his shoulder forcefully and brought him to a stop. "You don't like the idea of Betty moving on—moving away from you. It terrifies you because you have feelings for her." Her eyes sparkled triumphantly as if she had just placed the last piece of a difficult puzzle.

"Betty is a _friend_, okay? We've grown to be close _friends _over the past year, okay?" Daniel protested. His head began to spin and he felt a lump forming in his throat. "Besides she's Betty! It's….just…she's….she's.." Daniel shook his head in frustration. There were a million words flying through his head, he simply couldn't form them coherently. "She's just Betty!"

"And what's wrong with that?" Alexis asked matter-of-factly. "You could do a lot worse than Betty. A definite step up if you ask me."

All of the air seemed to have been sucked from the room and Daniel was now burning up. He was simply flabbergasted at the idea that he had feelings for Betty. The implication had sent him reeling. "I—I have to go. I have a date." He mumbled and stalked out of the office.

"You need to tell her!"

He heard Alexis' voice ring out after him, perfect in its smugness. When he entered the elevator and the doors dinged shut, leaving him alone, he collapsed up against the wall. His head was still spinning and his whole body felt weak, as if he had slammed into a brick wall—the brick wall being the revelation that he _did_, in fact, have feelings for Betty.


	9. Chapter 9

"….and foundation is also known as base. It can be sheer, full coverage, matte, illuminating, hydrating, age-defying, long-lasting…"

Christina trailed off in between sips of her drink. Betty could barely hear her over the rattling thump of the music as she scribbled furiously onto note cards, her eyes straining against the dim light in the bar. At that moment she wondered why they had decided to do a full beauty tutorial in a crowded bar on a Friday night instead of some place more suitable. Betty went to ask Christina if she wanted to go somewhere else when she saw her staring at a group of men a few tables away, the same group Betty had observed, she had been sneaking peeks at all night; this time Christina was fully engaged in flirting with one in the group, as he was smiling at her, raising his glass in a toast.

"Christina?" Betty called her name, but it was clear she had lost her to the attention of a gorgeous man.

"Oh right." Christina said after a moment, her voice slightly slurred. "And tinted moisturizer. Then there's the whole world of concealer!" She gestured through the air with a giggle, coming dangerously close to slipping off her stool. Suddenly she leaned forward across the table. "Speaking of concealer—do I need any? I've got this terrible blemish on my chin and…."

"You look fine." Betty laughed. "Besides, in this dim light, he'd never even notice." She jerked her head in the direction of the man who was now ordering another round of drinks from the cocktail waitress.

Christina smiled and threw back the rest of her beer in one big gulp. "You know me too well."

"Well that and you've been playing eyesies all night."

"_Eyesies_?"

"Yeah. It's like footsies, but with the eyes." Betty laughed. "So why don't you go talk to him already?"

"What about your lesson?"

"Well, I've got this to look over." Betty flashed the stack of note cards she had made out, each filled with Christina's ramblings. "And this." She pointed to the book Christina had given her, a beauty bible of sorts, sticking out of her purse. "Besides, we can go over the rest later. There's no rush."

"That's the spirit!" Christina lept to her feet and took a few wobbly steps forward, reaching for Betty's hand. "Are you coming? He's got several cute friends." She looked over her shoulder at the table where there were, indeed, several great looking guys.

Betty debated for a moment on whether she should stay, but she was tired and the lure of a long, hot bath was more inviting than awkward small talk with a group of drunken strangers. "I don't think so. It's been a long week and I'm beat." Betty stood up and threw on her coat. "But you have fun."

Christina smiled devilishly as she sauntered in the guys' direction. "I always do!"

Betty grabbed her things and headed for the door, turning her head as she heard a raucous whoop and saw the table of guys and Christina laughing and clinking their beer bottles together. As she passed the bar she saw a man slumped over it, head cradled in his hand, and a woman seated next to him, stirring the straw in her drink while looking extremely agitated. From the back the man looked familiar and it only took a few seconds for Betty to realize who it was.

"Daniel?" Betty asked tentatively, approaching the couple. Daniel's eyelids fluttered open lazily, revealing a glassy eyed stare. He was clearly intoxicated and let out a weird grunt before his eyes closed again, not realizing Betty was even there.

"You know him?" The woman asked desperately.

"Yeah, I do."

"Great." The woman stood up suddenly and grabbed her coat, slamming her drink down on the bar. "Then you can take him home." She sighed, relieved. "What an utter waste of an evening—of this dress!" She complained bitterly, tugging at the tight black number she was wearing. "It's Dolce and Gabbana!" Ugh, I should've known that going out with a guy like Daniel Meade would be nothing but trouble."

Betty poked Daniel on the shoulder, trying to rouse him from his stupor, but all he did was let out another grunt. She rolled her eyes, wondering what in the world had possessed him to get completely trashed on a date with a beautiful woman. The only time she had ever seen him this way was over Sophia—this type of behavior was simply not like him at all.

"All he did all night, besides drink," She scoffed. "Was sit and moan about some _other_ girl. Some…some…Betty!"

"_Betty_?"

Daniel, at that exact moment, had opened his eyes and finally saw her. His gaze was unfocused and he leaned forward, swaying a bit, and planted a hand down on her shoulder. "What are you doing here?" He slurred, his breath reeking of alcohol.

The woman's eyes darted back and forth between Daniel and Betty, pausing to look her up and down, disgusted. After a moment her disgust turned into mild amusement and she laughed. "He's not only a man-whore, but a crazy, _blind _man-whore!" She sniped viciously and turned on her heel to strut away.

Betty had no time to deal with the insult; instead she turned her attention back to Daniel who was now grinning goofily at her. "Come on Daniel, you've officially been cut off." Betty lifted his arm, placing it around her shoulder, and guided him slowly to his feet. She struggled to balance the weight of his body on her own, and they ambled awkwardly towards the door and out to the street to where his car was waiting. "Thank God we don't have to wait for a taxi." Betty moaned as she fumbled for the door handle.

The driver saw the predicament she was in and jumped out to help them into the car. "Where to?" He asked when he was back behind the wheel.

"Home—he's calling it a night."

The driver nodded and soon they were off. Daniel let out a moan, his head lolling back against the seat, and clutched his stomach.

"Please, please don't get sick." Betty pleaded, reaching across him to open his window. Daniel leaned up against it, letting the cold air wash over him. "There, the fresh air should feel good."

"Thanks. It does."

Betty clasped her coat tightly around her, chilly from the breeze. "So," She began, not sure how to broach the subject. "Your date, she was, uh, very pretty."

"Yeah. She was just featured in a spread for Calvin Klein."

"I see. She's gorgeous."

"Yeah, smart too."

"So then why go and blow it by getting drunk outta your mind?"

Daniel grimaced and rubbed his head, as if the words physically hurt him. "I guess I had a lot of things on my mind—lots of things. Drinking just seemed to make it better."

The two rode in silence for a few minutes before Betty had the courage to ask something that was bugging her. "Did any of those things have to do with me?"

"What?" Daniel asked, snapping to attention.

"Well, she mentioned that you had been talking about me all night."

"Oh." The little color that was left in Daniel's face drained completely.

"Did I do something? Are you mad at me?"

The driver slowed to a stop alongside the curb of Daniel's place, and for the moment the question went unanswered as Betty helped him out of the car and led him into the lobby of his building. "Alright, let's get you upstairs." She said, aiming them towards the elevator bay. "Boy, are you gonna be feeling this tomorrow."

"Can't—they're broken." He said, pointing at the elevators. "They're being worked on."

"You're kidding me!" Betty gasped, exasperated, and Daniel shook his head. "You live in a million dollar apartment building and the elevators don't work? Perfect." She grumbled, turning them around. "Stairs it is."

So the two of them headed towards the stairwell and began climbing the six flights of stairs to his floor. "So you never answered my question." Betty asked, pushing him up the stairs, one by one, from behind. "Are you mad at me? I thought I sensed something the other day at lunch but…"

"No." Daniel said. "I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself."

"What? I don't understand."

"Mad that I didn't tell you. So, so many things…"

Betty was now utterly confused, and when they finally reached his floor she leaned up against the wall, exhausted. "Like what?"

"That I have been miserable since you left." Daniel fumbled with the key, missing the lock and slamming it into the door.

"Oh." Betty blushed. "Here, let me help you." Betty offered, taking the key from his hand and sticking it in the lock. The door swung open and she went to help him through the doorway when his hand reached out and seized her arm.

"I…I…need….you…." Daniel stuttered. "To come back…."

Betty sighed. "I get it now. You're upset that I left." She looked down at his hand that was gripping her tight.

"…to come back and be…and be….be…"

"You want me to come back and be your assistant?"

"I want you to come back and be...be..._mine._"

As soon as the words fell from his mouth he swooped her up into a kiss. Too shocked to react, and overcome by the mixture of hot, alcohol stained breath, soft lips, and the scratch of five o'clock shadow against her skin, the only thing she could do was close her eyes and let him kiss her. But when she felt his tongue slip past her lips and she heard herself let out a small moan of appreciation she jerked herself away, snapped back into reality.

"Daniel!" She exclaimed, flustered and out of breath. "What the hell?"

"Betty, I—I am in love with you." Daniel said; for the first time that night his voice lost it's slur and his eyes were clear and earnest.

"Daniel, you're drunk." Betty warned, taking a step back.

"Betty I am in love with you, that's why I was so miserable when you left." Daniel took a step forward, reaching for her. He grabbed her hand, holding it lightly. "I thought I was just missing a friend—I didn't realize until tonight that I was missing so much more."

It was all too much to hear, too much to believe. Betty pulled her hand back and turned, taking a step down the stairs. "Daniel, I…." She trailed off, her mind reeling. "I have to go. Goodnight." And with that she took off down the stairs, her heart beating as fast as her feet carried her.


	10. Chapter 10

The morning sunshine streamed in through the frilly bedroom curtains, basking Betty in a warm glow as she began to stir from a deep sleep. For a few groggy moments she was blissfully unaware of what had happened the night before, instead her thoughts were occupied by the blinding sunlight and the painful crick in her neck. But as she opened her eyes and caught a stray, blurry glimpse of her purse on the night stand, with Christina's beauty book and her note cards spilling out, it all came flooding back to her.

She suddenly remembered everything—from taking Daniel home from the bar in his drunken state, to him kissing her and confessing his feelings, to her running away. The confusion she had felt last night as she dashed down the stairs of his apartment and hailed a cab had only intensified, leaving unanswered questions swirling in her mind. Was Daniel telling the truth—did he really have feelings for her? Or was it just a huge, drunken mistake? How would this affect her job—Daniel was still ultimately her boss—and more importantly, their friendship?

And the most important question of all, the one Betty had tried the hardest not to think about—how did she feel in return?

Betty groaned and pulled the comforter over her eyes, wanting desperately to block the whole world and all of its problems out. She hated being put in these tricky situations, and wished more than anything for a giant rewind button to take her back to a simpler time—a time when she didn't have to deal with a boss who might be in love with her.

"Betty?" Suddenly she heard Hilda's voice coming from the direction of the doorway.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay? I called you down for breakfast and nothing." Betty felt her sit down on the bed next to her and poke her on the shoulder. "Papi made French toast with berries and whipped cream so, come on before it's gone."

"I'm not hungry."

Hilda was quiet for a moment before she pulled the comforter back from Betty's face. Betty groaned as the sunlight hit her and Hilda looked concerned. "Okay, something is definitely wrong when Betty Suarez turns down Papi's French toast." Hilda paused, taking a good look at her. "You look terrible." Her worried look quickly turned into a smirk. "Wait a minute; you went out with Christina last night, didn't you? Are you hung over?" She whispered.

"No." Betty grumbled, snatching back the blanket and throwing it back over her head. "Even if I told you I don't think you'd believe me."

"Try me."

Betty debated whether or not she should tell Hilda the whole story, and how exactly she would go about. She had a feeling Hilda wouldn't believe her, after all Betty wasn't the type of girl who had rich, handsome, glamorous men declaring their love for her everyday—if Betty could barely believe it, why would Hilda? But after a few moments she decided just to blurt it all out, hoping that having someone to talk to about it might make her feel better. "So last night I went out with Christina," Betty began, pulling back the covers slowly and sitting upright. She ran a hand through her disheveled hair and reached for her glasses on the nightstand. "And I ran into Daniel out at the bar."

"Uh huh." Hilda nodded eagerly, scooting closer.

"And he was drunk…"

"Yeah."

"So I helped him home…"

"Okay."

"And when we got to his door…he kissed me."

The look on Hilda's face went from –_about to hear a juicy secret—_ to complete and utter shock. "Wow."

"See, see!" Betty waggled a finger in Hilda's direction. "I knew you wouldn't believe me!"

"No," Hilda reached out to brush her hand aside. "I believe you—I do. I just wasn't expecting to hear that is all." A slow smile began to form and her eyes lit up; she leaned forward, yearning to hear more. "So where did he kiss you? The cheek? The lips?"

"On the lips. And there was…..there was…."

"Oh my God, there was tongue?!?" Hilda squealed and Betty felt herself burn with embarrassment.

"Sssh! Keep it down!" Betty swatted her arm. "There's more." She whispered, feeling a lump rise in her throat.

Hilda's jaw went slack and she lurched forward, grabbing onto Betty's arm tightly. "You two didn't? Did you?"

Betty felt all the tension that had built up in her release with one good laugh, and she emphatically shook her head no. "No, we didn't do _that_."

"So, what then?" Hilda prodded; she let go of Betty's arm but was still on the edge of her seat.

"He told me he was in love with me."

"I can't believe it!"

Betty rolled her eyes. "See, I told you that you wouldn't…"

"No," Hilda shook her head. "I believe you—promise." The smile on her face was enormous. "So what did you do then, after he told you?"

"What do you think I did? I got the heck outta there."

"What?" Hilda's smile faded and she looked confused. "You ran away? Why?"

"Because, he's my boss, and he was drunk, and he didn't know what he was doing…" Betty rattled off a list of reasons, counting them on her fingers. "And I was completely dumbstruck. I had no idea what to do—so I ran."

Hilda looked disappointed. "Poor Daniel.."

"Poor Daniel?"

"Yeah. I mean the guy puts his heart on the line and you shoot him down like that?" Hilda grimaced. "That's harsh."

"Well what about me? Being put in such an awkward position?" Betty argued, crossing her arms in a huff. The accusation that she had somehow crushed Daniel's feelings made her feel ultra defensive and guilty all in the same breath. "And wait," Betty paused. "Did you just say he put his heart on the line?"

"Yeah."

"No…no…" Betty shook her head, unable to admit that Daniel's feelings were real, not just the product of too much to drink. "He was drunk, plain and simple. There were no feelings involved. He just drank too much and got overemotional because…because…." Betty flashed back to the moment outside Daniel's door.

_"Betty, I—I am in love with you." Daniel said; for the fist time that night his voice had lost its slur and his eyes were clear and earnest. _

_"Daniel, you're drunk." Betty warned, taking a step back. _

_"Betty, I am in love with you, that's why I was so miserable when you left." Daniel took a step forward, reaching for her. He grabbed her hand, holding it lightly. "I thought I was just missing a friend—I didn't realize until tonight that I was missing so much more." _

And despite her denial, as she thought back, in that moment his declaration had seemed so real. "Because he had a hard week, that's all."

"There's a reason why they call that stuff liquid courage. Trust me." Hilda nodded knowingly, looking as if she was speaking from experience. "It released him of his inhibitions, leaving him _finally _able to tell you how he really feels."

"_Finally_?"

"Come on Betty." Hilda laughed. "You had to have noticed the way he looks at you?"

"And that would be how?"

"Ya know." Hilda leaned forward and batted her eyelashes. "All moony eyed."

"Shut up." Betty laughed. "He does not! He looks at me the way he looks at every other employee."

"I mean if I had someone," Hilda sighed, staring dreamily off into the distance. "Who looked at me the way he looks at you—boss or not—let's just say I wouldn't mind him sexually harassing me."

"Daniel didn't sexually harass me." Betty said, annoyed. "He was just drunk. That's all." She sighed; by now the denial was starting to wear thin, and finding reason after reason to blow it off was tiring. The truth had been staring her in the face; she was just too scared to admit it, because admitting it meant she would have to deal with it.

"And how to you feel about him?" Hilda asked suddenly.

"What?"

"Daniel. Do you have feelings for him too?"

It was the one topic she had wanted avoid the most, and having Hilda say the words out loud terrified her. She had tried not to think about it, because if she did, and she realized she _did _have feelings, it would make things that much more complicated. "I haven't thought about it." She answered truthfully.

"Well, you need to. Because you can deny his feelings all you want, but you have to be completely honest with yourself about your feelings. If you aren't then you could end up missing out on something really amazing."

"To be completely honest," Betty sighed, knowing Hilda had a point. "I never thought about me and Daniel in that way before. I mean, why would I? Number one, he's my boss. Number two, we're from totally different worlds—"

"Oh, how _West Side__ Story_." Hilda snickered. 

Betty rolled her eyes. "He eats caviar and drinks champagne. I eat empanadas and drink two dollar draft beer. He dates gorgeous models and actresses and I'm…." She paused to gesture at herself.

"You're what?"

"I'm this!" She tugged at the straggly ends of her hair. "I'm not exactly the type Daniel goes for, am I? So why would I even consider for one minute he would have real feelings for me. Even you said I look sloppy and unprofessional!"

"Betty Suarez," Hilda said; she cocked her head to the side as if she was about to lay down the law. "You are a beautiful person, inside _and_ out—not like those superficial Mode types." Betty smiled but did not look convinced, so Hilda continued. "They're so many things besides physical beauty that makes someone fall in love. Like a great personality, sense of humor, a beautiful _soul—_all of which you possess." Hilda added, looking quite smug. "I mean looking hot may get some guy to talk to you, but honey, if you ain't got nuthin' else going for you then forget about it!" Hilda shook her head animatedly as she made her point. "But you—you're smart, kind, funny, generous, you have a great job and may I add have a _wonderful_ sister," Betty snorted and Hilda ignored her. "You Betty have it going _on_! No wonder why Daniel loves you!"

"Thanks." Betty said softly; she now felt shamed at Hilda's words, embarrassed that she had been so insecure. She knew Hilda was right, physical beauty wasn't the only requirement to fall in love—but it was the last shred of denial she had been clinging too, and now that it had been taken out of the equation, it was official. Betty had to finally deal with it—deal with the fact that Daniel was really in love with her, and everything that went along with it, as complicated it might be.

"And as for…ya know….what I said," Hilda frowned and looked truly sorry. "I never meant to insult you, or make you feel bad about yourself." She leaned forward, taking Betty's hand. "I was just excited about your promotion and wanted you to do well, so of course I opened up my mouth and inserted my foot."

Betty laughed. "It's alright."

Hilda smiled, relieved. "Betty, if you could just see what everyone else sees when Daniel looks at you, then there would be no question that he truly is in love with you."

"I guess you have a point" Betty nodded. "Maybe I'm …I'm…"

"In denial?"

Betty laughed; Hilda had her pegged, but she wouldn't admit it. "I would say…_confused_."

"But ya know, there is one more _very _important question we still need to talk about." Hilda looked extremely serious. "It fact, it may be the most important question of them all."

Suddenly Betty was nervous again; she was sure she had thought of all the possible complications.

"Was Daniel a good kisser?"

"Hilda!" Betty laughed, whapping her with her pillow. Hilda grabbed it from her hand and threw it back at her before bouncing up off the bed.

"Alright, Betty. Hurry up and come down for breakfast before the French toast is gone." Hilda turned and headed for the door. "Or, if they're gone I can always make you some pancakes!" Hilda called over her shoulder earnestly.

"I'll be right down!" Betty yelped, throwing back the sheets hastily, and flew out of her room.


	11. Chapter 11

As soon as Daniel opened his eyes he regretted it. His head was throbbing, his mouth was dry, and the clock on his nightstand read 2:30 p.m. Realizing he was badly hung over, and had slept most of the day away, he buried his head into the pillow with a groan. _"No more alcohol again—ever."_ He thought as he mustered all his strength to turn himself over. 

The sunlight stung his eyes and he shielded them as he sat up slowly and slid off the bed. The night before was just a jumble of blurry, disjointed images, and he struggled to piece them together as he stumbled towards the bathroom. He remembered going to the bar after work, a little place around the corner that was popular with the _Mode _staff, and meeting his date. He remembered she was a model, hated martini's, and went to Columbia—the school not the country—but he couldn't remember her name.

Daniel bent down over the sink, letting the water run cold; as he splashed his face with the icy water he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and cringed. His skin was sallow, with dark circles under his bloodshot eyes—he basically looked like hell.

He could still taste the vodka tonics on his breath and remembered his date asking him at one point if he had a _"problem with alcohol"_. He had said no, because even though he did have a problem, it was not alcohol related. He had drank, and drank, and drank to get his mind off one thing—Betty. No matter how obvious it had been to Alexis, the sudden realization that he had feelings for Betty had been quite a shock.

He remembered the talk with his sister and how the emotions had crashed down on him, all at once leaving him confused, giddy, and scared. Confused at how it had even happened, that he could have fallen for Betty and not even realized it. Then, giddy at the new, intense feelings he felt at the thought of being with her, holding her, kissing her….. And finally, he was scared.

Betty was not like any of the women he had ever gone for— the glamorous, unattainable types. And while Betty sparkled in her own way, glamorous and unattainable she was not. In fact, she was the antithesis of every woman Daniel had ever dated. She was down to earth, goofy, quite clumsy sometimes, very unfashionable, and most of all she was _real. _And given his track record, he feared that Betty wouldn't even believe him when he told her how he felt.

Or worse, that she wouldn't feel the same, things would get awkward, and then he would have not only lost his assistant, but his best friend as well.

So, instead of dealing with it, he drank to numb himself.

But now he was sober, and his mind began to whirl again with all the thoughts he had successfully blocked out the night before—the fears, the worries. As he swirled his toothbrush around in his mouth, trying to get the stale taste out, he heard his phone ring from the bedroom, its shrill sound causing him to close his eyes in pain as he spit into the sink.

"Hello?" He croaked into the receiver as he ambled into the room, catching it on the last ring.

There was a momentary silence on the other line before a tiny voice spoke. "Daniel?"

"Betty?" Daniel asked, flopping down on his bed. Instantly he felt his body tense up and his heart skip a beat at the sound of her voice "Whats's up?" He asked, trying to sound casual.

"Umm," She mumbled, sounding quite nervous. "I think we need to talk, ya know, about last night."

"Last night?" Daniel's heart skipped another beat.

"Ya, know…at the bar." Betty's voice grew even quieter and squeaked a bit.

Daniel swallowed hard and ran a hand through his hair. The amount of alcohol he had ingested had been enough to block out several large chunks of the evening, and Daniel had no idea what she was talking about. "I saw you at the bar?" He asked, falling back into his bed. There was another long pause on the other line as Daniel stared up at the ceiling. "Betty—hello? Are you still there?"

"Wait— you don't remember?"

"Betty I was so drunk last night that I barely remember anything." Suddenly Daniel had a strange flash back to the night before, a memory of his date yelling something about her dress, and the sense that someone else was there, but it was too hazy to fully recall. "I don't even know how I got home. Why, what happened?"

"Nothing!" Betty exclaimed a bit too forcefully, her voice breaking with emotion. "Never mind, it's not important, really." She insisted. "Um, I ran into you and, uh, you spilled a drink on my dress and, uh, yeah. That's it. Not a big deal at all. Nope." Her voice was strained and short, and for a moment he heard a stifled gasp that almost sounded like she was crying. "Of course you wouldn't remember—you were drunk. _Drunk_. Just drunk and nothing else." She sighed. "Makes perfect sense."

"If I ruined something you know I'll pay for it." Daniel insisted, confused and worried over her reaction to his apparent sloppy drunkenness. "Is that the only reason you're so upset? Did something else happen?"

"No." Betty answered sadly. "Nothing else happened. I guess I am so upset because I just realized how much I," Betty paused again. "How much I really love that dress." Daniel heard a sniffle. "Well, I gotta go, see you at work." And with that Betty hung up, leaving Daniel lying bewildered on his bead.


	12. Chapter 12

The office was bustling with Monday morning activity and loud with chatter but Betty could hear none of the commotion around her. She was surrounded in a self imposed bubble of silence as she flipped mindlessly through the stack of note cards she had filled out with Christina's drunken ramblings about cosmetics. She tried to focus on the words, but instead found herself staring into space, listening to the steady beat of her heart and Hilda's voice echoing in her head, as it had done all morning.

_"Betty, if you could just see what everyone else sees when Daniel looks at you, then there would be no question that he truly is in love with you." _

Suddenly the bubble of silence burst and the noises of the day slowly filtered in. She pushed the cards away with a groan; no matter how she had tried to forget what had happened, she found herself thinking about it every free minute. She couldn't help it—she had been thrown for a loop to hear that Daniel didn't remember the kiss at all. After talking to Hilda, she had reluctantly been convinced that it really meant something, and now she couldn't help but feel foolish.

Betty told herself that she should be glad—her first instincts were correct. It seemed to have been just one of those drunken things and nothing more. Daniel wasn't in love with her, just drunk and overemotional. She had nothing to worry about; everything would go back to how it was before, uncomplicated and easy.

But things now were anything but easy; because as she spoke to him on the phone that night, she had inexplicably found herself in tears, no idea whether she was relieved or devastated. She rationalized for a while that her tears were the result of her injured pride, but deep down she knew it was a lie.

Betty adjusted her glasses, intent on getting her mind off of it all when she heard someone approaching and looked up to see Christina. "I see you_ finally_ got my message." Betty remarked blithely.

Christina stopped inches from her desk, her cell still pressed to her ear and her mouth agape. "I rushed over as soon as I got it!"

"Christina, I—"

"I can't believe Daniel tried to seduce you!"

"Christina!" Betty exclaimed, shushing her. "Keep it down!" She lept up from her chair and ran around to the other side of the desk and grabbed Christina's arm. "He did not try to seduce me!" She whispered, leading her slowly away from the busy office and out into the hall. "He was just drunk—that's all. Not exactly _Dangerous Liaisons_ or anything."

Christina didn't seem to hear her and crossed her arms, looking quite ticked off. "Typical Daniel--_wine 'em, dine 'em, romance 'em, and de-pants 'em—_Meade! Always trying to shag his assistants!" She scoffed. "I thought this time was different--that he had changed—but I guess the tradition lives on!"

"He did not try and shag me!" Betty whispered. "It was just a kiss. That's all. "Betty laughed, amused at her fiery reaction. "I'm fine," She reached out and touched Christina's arm to reassure her. "Really, I'm fine." She sniffed, knowing it was untrue, and held her head up defiantly.

Christina looked skeptical. "But your message? It said, and I quote—_Daniel…I went home with him and…he…he kissed me…..I ran away….I don't know what to do._" Christina recited dramatically, waving her hands for effect. "You sounded so upset, like you were crying. I was so worried!"

"Oh, really?" Betty fumbled for what to say, she had forgotten she had left Christina the message only minutes after hanging up with Daniel. She didn't realize at the time that she was still crying. "I….I….." Betty searched the floor, trying to stall for an excuse, but her mind was blank.

Christina's eyes softened and she arched an eyebrow. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

Betty bit her bottom lip; she didn't want to tell Christina the whole story, because then she might put two-and-two together, and understand exactly why Betty was crying. And Betty wasn't sure she wanted someone else to say it before she herself was even ready to.

That she was in love with Daniel.

It was a cruel trick of fate Betty had told herself, to realize that she too had feelings for Daniel just as he casually dismissed everything that had brought her to that revelation. In that moment, when Daniel told her he didn't remember anything, it hit her hard. All the awkwardness and apprehension she had been feeling about the situation had melted away, replaced by a deep sadness, and her tears had been a natural, if unexpected, reaction.

It was obvious that Betty's heart knew something her head didn't.

"Well, "Betty said slowly, pulling Christina further down the hallway into an even more secluded corner. "Something else did happen. Well, more like something else was said."

Christina looked intrigued. "What was said?"

"Daniel told me he was in love with me." Betty watched as Christina's mouth fell open, and she nodded, urging her to continue.

"And then when I told Hilda about it she convinced me that it meant more than some drunken thing," Betty sighed. "But it turns out that it _was_ just a drunken thing, since I called him the next day to talk about it and he didn't remember a thing." Betty searched Christina's eyes for any hint that she had realized her secret, but it was impossible to tell. "Which is good, because now everything is back to the way it was—which is perfect." Betty chirped a bit too loudly, and was aware of how fake she sounded.

"Is it though?" Christina asked. She cocked her head to the side and looked Betty square in the eye. "Because you still haven't told me why you were crying."

Betty felt her throat go dry; Christina was on to her.

"You…you don't have feelings for Daniel, do you?" Christina whispered hesitantly.

Betty felt herself tense up and quietly nodded, too afraid to say the words out loud.

"I…I don't know what to say." Christina sputtered, looking flummoxed. "I had no idea."

"Me either, till recently." Betty shrugged, feeling her cheeks turning pink. "_Very _recently." Betty gave Christina a look, and as if reading her mind, she seemed to understand.

"Oh, I see. Sort of a _don't know what you've got till its gone_ kinda thing?"

"Or until they don't remember."

"Oh honey," Christina put a comforting arm around her shoulder. "Just because he doesn't remember the kiss, or what he said, doesn't mean that the feeling behind it wasn't real. And if it _was _real, not just the liquor talking, then it would still be there. I mean, booze might be able to erase a memory, but it can't erase love."

"Oh, how sweet. That should be a Hallmark card." Betty smirked, even though she knew Christina had a point, a point that she herself hadn't even realized.. The thought gave her the slightest bit of happiness. "Let me get this straight though," She quipped, her mood considerably lifted. "If Daniel tries to get fresh with me you're angry, but if he _loves _me, its alright?"

"Of course." Christina looked quite pleased with herself. "You deserve better than being just another skirt chased around the desk" She stated matter-of-factly.

"Thanks."

"So, are you gonna talk to him then?"

The idea made Betty freeze up; even though she had been given a glimmer of hope, the possibility that Daniel _wasn't _in love with her still hung over her head, paired with the fact that she was unable to even utter the words to herself, how would she ever be able to tell Daniel? She was terrified as she nodded her head yes.

"Great!" Christina smiled and glanced briefly at the clock on the wall. "Morning meeting is about to start soon. You gonna come?" She asked, taking a step towards the elevators. "It would be a perfect time to talk to _you-know-who _about _you-know-what_." She wiggled her eyebrows playfully.

Betty took a step back warily and shook her head. "I will talk to him, when I'm ready." She insisted, even if she wasn't quite sure when that would be.


	13. Chapter 13

Daniel shifted from side to side, craning his neck in order to get a better look in the mirror. His hands played nervously with the undone cuffs of his shirt as they poked out from beneath his jacket and dangled past his fingers. As he shifted once more he felt a sharp stab to his ankle and let out a yelp. He heard a grunt of dissatisfaction and looked down to see Christina—who was knelt on the floor at his feet—glare up at him.

"Do you want your hem to be uneven? Or do you just _want_ me to prick ya?" She asked through a cluster of straight pins poking out from clenched teeth. "Stop moving around so much, yer all jittery." She grabbed a fold of fabric and shoved a pin through. "Yer bum looks fine in yer pants if that's what yer worried about." She snickered.

Daniel focused back on his reflection in the mirror and straightened up self consciously. "This is not about my bum." He rolled his eyes. "I'm just nervous. Tonight is the big fragrance launch." He turned his head to get a look at the way his custom made suit jacket laid against the curves of his shoulders. "This is a big event for me. If this goes well Mode could land a huge advertising account with Agent Provocateur." He loosened the collar of his shirt and began fidgeting again much to Christina's dismay. "I want to make a good impression."

"And you will," Christina tugged on his pants leg again. "That is if you stop moving about. Otherwise the hem will make it look like you got this off the clearance rack at Wal Mart. Besides," She shook her head. " No one will be focused on you when there will be half naked stick insects prancing around in lingerie spraying high priced perfume into the air."

"I just want everything to go smoothly that's all."

"It will." Christina said in her best supportive voice. "You have nothing to worry about."

Daniel knew Christina was right, but it didn't quiet the nerves in the pit of his stomach—even if he knew he had nothing to be worried about. In fact, everything had been going smoothly. Everything had been booked and confirmed weeks ago, and the fragrance launch was shaping up to be one of the hottest events of the season, something that would not only be great for Mode but for Daniel personally. And as much as he had tried to blame the uneasiness on the upcoming event, the actual cause of his jittery behavior was from the one area of his life that wasn't going smoothly—his personal life. He had realized he was in love with his assistant, and after initially drowning his feelings in alcohol, he had gained the courage to face them. He had been more than ready to tell Betty how he felt, but that had proved to be next to impossible.

Daniel had seen Betty here and there, but his attempts to say talk to her were met with a quick excuse about deadlines, press releases, meetings, or any reason why she had to leave right away. It was obvious she was avoiding him, and he had an suspicion why. Soon three weeks had passed, and his bottled up feelings were making him quite anxious, something that was easy to blame on the impending fragrance launch.

"So, how's Betty? I haven't seen her around much lately." Daniel asked casually. He looked at Christina in the mirror; she was busy working on pinning up the last of the right hem. "I haven't seen her since that night I saw her at the bar actually."

Instantly Christina stiffened up and the bunch of pins clenched in her teeth fell to the floor and scattered around her. "Ya don't say." She mumbled, her hand frantically scooping up the pins. "She's been real busy."

"Oh. They must be working her like a dog over in beauty. I'll have to have a little chat with Simone about that."

"Uh huh."

Daniel noticed that Christina's normally steady hands were a bit shaky as she scooped up the last of the stray pins. Her face had gone a bit paler than usual and he had the sudden feeling that this line of questioning was making her uncomfortable—that there was something concerning Betty that she was concealing from him. Perhaps, he told himself, she would be able to confirm his suspicions about what was bothering Betty. "You know she could very well be busy," He continued. "But sometimes I get the feeling she is avoiding me."

"Oh really?" She answered quickly, focusing all her attention on the piece of fabric now clutched in her hand as she slipped a pin through it. "I don't know why you would think that."

"And I think I know why she is avoiding me…"

"You do?" Christina stared up at him wide eyed.

"...it's what happened at the bar. But I don't see why it's such a big deal."

"_What_!?" Christina choked.

"But you know Betty." Daniel continued, unaware of the shocked expression on Christina's face. "It probably meant a lot to her. Well, I know it does because she told me…"

"She told you!?"

Daniel nodded. "But I didn't know it meant this much." Daniel shrugged. "It's kinda silly to be this mad when you think about it. I mean, I would like to give her some money for it if that would help…"

"Daniel Meade you are out of your bloody mind!" Christina gasped, rising to her feet. She took a step back and stared at him in disgust, crossing her arms. "Pay her? How could that help?"

"Well…."

"And of course it's a big deal! It's a huge deal!" She interrupted, her voice rising. She shook her head in disbelief. "I can't believe she told you. And I can't believe she didn't tell _me_ she told you."

Daniel let out a sigh of relief; his suspicions were confirmed and he finally knew what was wrong. Now could make things right. "So it _is_ what happened at the bar?" He looked at his smug reflection in the mirror. "I had a feeling you knew all along."

"Yes. And I still don't know how you think it's not a big deal." Christina interrupted, bending down to gather her things. "I mean, it's not everyday your boss kisses you and tells you he is in love with you."

"She must have really loved that dress." Daniel continued before realizing what Christina had said. "_What_?" He said with a strangled cry.

Christina rose once more; as she stared back at Daniel's frozen expression it was clear that they had both been talking about different things and that she had let the cat out of the bag. The box of pins fell from her hand and once more scattered about the room. "Bugger!" She cried, stamping her foot in frustration. "Dress? What dress?" What are you talking about?"

Daniel felt his mouth go dry. "The dress…the…." He stammered. "She called me and said I ran into her at the bar," He felt dizzy and lowered himself to the floor as a rush of memories came back to him. They were still hazy, but they were there. He remembered a disastrous date, a limo ride home, and a broken elevator. And all the while Betty was present. "And that I had spilled a drink on her dress." He sunk his head into his hands. "I thought that's why she was mad at me. Because I was a sloppy drunk and I ruined her…" He stopped mid sentence. Suddenly he felt like a complete fool for believing that could be the reason she was avoiding him. It seemed so trivial and silly; he questioned whether he even truly believed it in the first place. "That didn't really happen though, did it?" He asked, although he already knew the answer. "There was no ruined dress, was there?"

Christina shook her head no.

"So, I kissed Betty?" As soon as the words came from his mouth, it hit him. Daniel remembered standing outside his door, telling Betty he loved her and pressing his mouth upon hers. He remembered the softness of her lips and the small way she leaned into him before pulling away and dashing down the stairs. He remembered stumbling drunk in through his apartment door and falling into his bed, and the way his head throbbed when Betty called him the next morning wanting to talk about something important.

"I see you remember now." Christina remarked, reading the expression in his eyes.

Daniel felt nauseous. "Oh God." Daniel moaned; no wonder why Betty was avoiding him. All this time he wanted to tell her how he felt, she was mortified that her drunken boss had made a pass at her; made worse by the fact that he didn't even remember doing it at all.

Christina was now staring at him with a mixture of pity and sympathy in her eyes, and she placed a hand on his slumped shoulder. "She thinks it was just a big drunken mistake."

"I am such an idiot." Daniel scolded himself. He wondered if Betty could ever forgive him, if she would even believe that he was in love with her, or if he had ruined everything.

"So," Christina asked in a small voice. "Was it?"

"Was what?"

"Was it a big drunken mistake?" She treaded carefully." Were you just drunk, lonely, and looking for a little companionship?"

Daniel sprung upright, alarmed. "No, no." He shook his head. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of wanting to use Betty in any way. "It's not like that at all. Yes, I was drunk but it wasn't a mistake. Well, it _was _a mistake." He took a deep breath. This was harder than he thought. "What I mean is how it _happened_ was a mistake. But what I said wasn't a mistake. I…."

"You?"

"I love Betty. I am in love with Betty." Daniel hadn't said the words out loud, especially to another person, and it made some of his anxiety fade away.

The corners of Christina's mouth curled up into a smile. "I see." She reached out and lightly slugged him on the shoulder. "Then why did ya get all piss ass drunk and make a fool out of yerself instead of just telling her how you felt?" She whined, her accent growing heavy.

"I, I….I was scared. I didn't want to admit how I felt so I started drinking. I didn't know she would show up that night."

"You need to tell her." Christina cut him off. "You need to go and explain what happened."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because now she hates me. She wants nothing to do with me." Daniel grimaced. "I don't blame her."

Christina's eyes darted back to the door quickly before she crouched down close to him and leaned into his ear. "Okay, since I already opened my big mouth and let the secret slip, I am gonna open it a little wider and tell you this," She whispered. "She doesn't hate you."

Daniel perked up a little. "She doesn't?"

"No. In fact, she feels quite the opposite if ya catch my drift. And that's why she is so upset."

Daniel felt his heart jump into his throat. It was almost too good to be true. Could Betty really feel the same way that he did? "Really?" He grabbed onto Christina's arm; leaping to his feet he pulled her with him. "Are you sure?"

Christina nodded." Yes. And that is why you need to talk to her. Get it?"

Daniel nodded, barely able to contain his excitement. At that moment he was ready to find Betty, scoop her up in his arms and tell her everything.

"And now," She gestured to the door. "I am gonna leave and none of this happened. I wasn't here and you never heard anything." She waved her hands in the air and started backing away from him. "My big mouth never spilled any of this. I am a figment of your imagination." She smiled nervously as she slid out the door. "Oh," She poked her head back into the room. "One more thing…"

"Yeah?"

"I'll finish those pants later." She pointed towards the bottom of his pants, each rimmed with pins.

"Oh."

"And another…"

"Yeah?"

"Good luck." Christina winked.

Daniel could only smile goofily as she left. His heart was racing and his palms were sweating. Moments before all hope had seemed lost, that he had ruined his chances with Betty, but now hope was renewed. She loved him too. The thought was enough to erase any foolishness he had felt. He looked back into the mirror and stared at himself, giving himself a mental pep talk. "You will find Betty," He said to himself. "You will apologize. You will tell her you love her, you will then kiss her and then you will never let her go. Ever." He gave himself a little nod before heading for the door, sending straight pins flying and the hem of his pants tumbling down.

**SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO UPDATE. LIFE, YA KNOW? WILL TRY AND UPDATE MUCH SOONER THIS TIME!**


	14. Chapter 14

All of the hard work the staff at Mode had put in for the Agent Provacateur fragrance launch had paid off and the evening was off to a fabulous start. The industrial space that was chosen had been transformed from an empty, dusty concrete block to something that rivaled the tents at Bryant Park during fashion week. Gauzy cream fabric draped dramatically from the ceiling, framing the area and dancing in the dim, rosy light. A large runway was erected in the middle of the space flanked by row after row of white chairs, and a roped off V.I.P. section sat near the DJ booth where music flooded out of the speakers. Tuxedo clad waiters worked the room, beautiful people tossed back glass after glass of champagne, and photographer's flashbulb's clicked around them. On the walls hung poster sized ads for the new fragrance—Heidi Klum clutching a strategically placed perfume bottle over her nude figure—that were to run in Mode, and models wearing the fragrance's name _Lujuria_ on their shirts pranced about handing out sample bottles.

But Betty wasn't able to enjoy any of the spectacle around her. Instead she found herself hiding out in a deserted corner. A small part of her hoped the perfume samples would spontaneously combust, the place would go up in flames, and she would be able to go home. Not that she wished anyone to die a fiery death, but simply a distraction to avoid running into the one person she was certain would be there.

She knew she was being ridiculous, but she felt like such a fool. One minute she was dealing with the fact that Daniel was in love with her, the next minute his feelings weren't real but hers were. Normally she would just brush the whole misunderstanding off—after all it wasn't as if she hadn't faced romantic rejection before. Her whole life was filled with crushes on men who were unattainable or didn't feel the same way, but this was different. This was Daniel—her boss, her mentor, her best friend—and she had no idea what to do. She had never thought of him in a romantic way, and now that was all she could think about. Knowing that he didn't feel the same way made her heart ache in a way it never had before. So after three weeks of worrying over what she would say when faced with him again, and avoiding him at all costs, she was left just as confused as before. And the last thing she wanted was to have an awkward confrontation in a room of the snobby fashion elite and paparazzi, so she hid.

As Betty kept on the look out for Daniel and watched a gaggle of women in oversized glasses totter about—and wondered how they were even able to see anything—she heard a voice cry out her name. Instinctively she shrunk back into the shadows and scanned through the crowd for the owner of the voice. The voice cried out again and she saw Christina charging towards her.

"Betty, where have you been!" Christina demanded, her voice staining over the noise around them. "I have been looking for you all day!"

"I was in the beauty closet all day," She pointed towards the chairs and the white bags that were perched on top of them. "I was putting together the beauty samples for the gift bags."

Betty noticed Christina seemed flustered and watched incredulously as she swiped two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and tossed one of them back in a large gulp.

"Someone's ready to party." Betty laughed. "Slow down—the bar will be open all night. Should I call a cab now?" She teased.

"We need to talk." Christina said seriously. "I did something I shouldn't have done and was gonna pretend it never happened, but now I feel guilty and need to clear my conscience and deal with the repercussions." Her face went pale and she held out the other champagne glass and pressed it into Betty's hand.

"What' this for? You know I don't like champagne. The bubbles give me terrible hiccups."

"Trust me," Christina warned, forcing Betty to take the glass. "You're gonna need it in about sixty seconds, and trust me when I say hiccups won't seem that bad after what I am gonna tell you."

"What's wrong?" Betty asked, alarmed by Christina's ominous statement, but she wouldn't get to hear the answer. Instead she found her attention elsewhere as she spotted a navy suit and a familiar head of sandy brown hair enter the room and mingle through the crowd. Betty let out a strangled gasp. "Oh, he's here."

"Betty? Betty?" Christina waved her hands in front of her face. "Betty did you hear me?" She grabbed her arms gently and shook her. "Did you hear what I said?"

"No, no." Betty shook her head. She felt a bit dizzy, as if all the oxygen had been sucked from the room just as Daniel appeared. Out of the corner of her eye she spied him as he moved to the front of the room and chatted up a group of guests. "I—I just saw Daniel and I…"

"All the more reason you need to _listen_ to what I have to say this time." Christina said firmly. "About Daniel…"

"Yeah, about Daniel," Betty began, ignoring the huff of frustration from Christina for being interrupted once again. "I realize I am being silly and childish. I know that. But it's Daniel." She whined, oblivious to the pained expression on Christina's face. "I've been in this spot before, sure. I've liked guys who didn't feel the same way, but this is Daniel. He's different…" She trailed off, watching wistfully as Daniel ducked behind a red velvet curtain and headed to the backstage area. "He means more to me than any guy I've ever liked and the fact that he doesn't feel the same way crushes me, okay? There I said it." Betty sighed. "And I know I can't avoid him forever but I need to until I get over him. Or at least until I get my emotions under control." Betty sighed. "At least the one saving grace about this is that he doesn't know and I can get over him, move on, and act like this never, ever happened."

"He knows Betty."

"WHAT?" Suddenly the already dim lights went pitch black; the lights over the runway switched on and bathed the runway in a blinding white light. The music stopped and a sudden hush fell over the crowd, replaced by whispers and the sound of flashbulbs. "What do you mean he knows?" Betty whispered fervently, leaning in closer. "How does he know?"

"I'm so sorry." Christina wrung her hands. "It was a mistake. See I was hemming his pants. He started asking about you and then said he knew why you were avoiding him and then said something about paying you money," She replied hastily. "And we got our lines crossed and it just all came spilling out. I'm so sorry." Christina squirmed. "It was like word vomit. I couldn't stop myself."

"Speaking of vomit," Betty groaned, clutching her stomach. "I think I feel sick." Betty looked down into the glass of champagne and after a moment she tilted her head back and chugged it's contents. "How much does he know?"

Christina opened her mouth to speak but the sharp squeal of feedback cut her off and a tapping sound boomed through the speakers, filling the room. They both flinched at the noise and turned to see Daniel onstage at the microphone, tapping it lightly. "Sorry about that." He smiled playfully.

Betty's head whipped back and forth from Christina to the stage, where Daniel was smiling for the cameras, and then back again, her eyes asking the question she was too terrified to repeat.

"Everything." Christina nodded solemnly. "He knows everything. But," Her voice perked up and she smiled. "There's more and it's not bad. In fact it's pretty great and…"

"I don't wanna know more." Betty moaned. "I've heard enough."

Christina tried to argue, but before she could say another word Daniel's voice rang out once again.

"Good evening," He began, pulling the microphone from its stand and speaking conversationally, pacing about the stage. "I'm Daniel Meade, Editor in Chief of Mode, and I and I just want to thank you all for being here tonight to celebrate the launch of Agent Provacateur's exciting new fragrance Lujuria. It's a sweet and spicy oriental that's just as sweet and spicy as their lingerie, which in a few moments we will see with a sneak peek of their new fall line!" He nodded his head and signaled to someone. The lights flickered on, then off, and the crowd clapped politely and began to scramble towards their seats. "Enjoy the show!" He added and walked off runway.

"Oh I need to get outta here right now." Betty tried not to panic, and her voice was calm, almost eerily so. She felt as if all of the embarrassing moments in her life had combined to form one major, all consuming humiliation. She saw the moment flash before her eyes when she would run into Daniel and he would give her a sad, sympathetic smile, cock his head and say how he was flattered but didn't feel the same, and then apologize awkwardly for being drunk, and then she would shrivel up and die. She couldn't bear the thought, and without waiting another moment she pushed past Christina, holding back tears.

"Wait Betty!" Christina called after her to no avail. "You need to hear the rest of the story!"

Betty dashed towards the door, but the room now being pitch black she found it hard to navigate through the crowd as they migrated to their seats for the start of the show. Just as she was in front of a large speaker by the DJ's booth the music started up again and blasted straight into her ear. Startled, she jumped back and as she did so the lights from the rigging over the runway temporarily blinded her, causing her to stumble backwards into a waiter carrying a tray full of empty champagne glasses. The two collided and the tray went flying, sending glasses crashing to the floor and making everyone's head turn in their direction. Betty spun around, apologizing profusely, when her foot caught on a stray glass that had landed, unbroken, and she flew into the air and landed with a thud face down on the floor.

By the time she stood back up again the whole room was staring at her. "Wow that perfume sure smells great!" She warbled above the thumping music, adjusting her glasses and smoothing out her dress. In the distance she heard a voice that sounded like Mark laughing hysterically. "Enjoy the show!" She smiled and gave a pathetic little wave. As she turned and made a beeline for the door she spied Daniel out of the corner of her eye. He was lingering at the edge of the stage by a cluster of reporters, and they were all staring in her direction. As she quickened her pace and pushed her way through the side door she saw Daniel dash after her.


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's Note: THANK YOU GUYS! For all the great reviews, and just for reading. And mostly your patience, since I am not able to update fics as quickly as I once was due to...ya know...life. Groan! I loved writing this Detty fic and hope to write more UB/Detty fics in the future when I can! I can't believe this is the end and I finished it finally! Woohoooo! I hoped you enjoyed.**

The door Betty ran through emptied out into a deserted, grimy alley that ran parallel to the building. It had rained earlier, leaving the ground slippery and full of puddles that shimmered in the moonlight. She didn't see or care where she was headed, only that it was far away from the scene of her public humiliation; and more importantly, far away from Daniel. But as she ran her foot landed in one particularly deep puddle and it immediately sent her skidding. Feeling gravity pull her backwards, her arms flailing helplessly, she let out a strangled cry as she realized she was about to put on a repeat performance of what had just occurred inside—only this time for the stray cat that watched her with curiosity from atop a garbage can.

But before she could meet the cold, hard ground she felt a pair of strong hands catch her and pull her upright. "You really need to be more careful when you're moving like a bat outta hell." Daniel's voice said softly.

Betty took a quick step forward and distanced herself from Daniel. He was much to close now—to close to see the tears streaming down her face. So she kept her back to him and closed her eyes tight. She hoped that, if she held them closed tight enough, everything would go away. It would just be her, alone with the sounds of the city in the distance and one stray cat, and Daniel wouldn't be waiting behind her, ready to say the words she knew he would say—that he didn't feel the same—and break her heart into a million pieces.

"Betty, are you alright? You're not breathing?"

Betty's eyes opened and she exhaled loudly; she had been unaware she was holding her breath in anxious anticipation. Daniel had moved in closer once more, and his breath on the back of her neck, combined with his close physical proximity, gave her goose bumps. "I'm fine, fine, fine." Betty tried to smile and chirp in her normal Betty-esque manner, but she simply didn't have it in her, and her words felt hollow.

"I saw what happened back there and I…"

"Yeah you did." Betty agreed, wiping away tears with the back of her hand. "The whole wide world of fashion saw that! Every model, celebutante, photographer, reporter, and blogger in New York City saw that! I saw Perez Hilton in the crowd! I'll probably show up on his website tomorrow with a creative, yet insulting caption." For the first time Betty thought of what the partygoer's must have thought at seeing herself taken out by a champagne glass. And for the first time she let out a genuine laugh over it; it wasn't making a fool of herself she was upset over—after all that happened on such a regular basis she was practically immune to it's effects—it was the fact that she couldn't avoid Daniel any longer, and it terrified her.

"Well," Daniel breathed an audible sigh of relieve as Betty laughed. "If he does I'll make sure I have my lawyers get in contact with him." He frowned. "I'm not too fond of him since he made fun of my Mom's botox last month."

Betty took a deep, confidence building breath and slowly spun around to face him. There Daniel was, standing face to face with her; his head was down turned, as were his eyes, his hands were shoved deep in his pockets, and he had a kind of shy, earnest smile. "I saw that." She grimaced. "Former alcoholics should know a botox shot doesn't have tequila so lay off, or something like that?" She said quietly, almost under her breath.

"What happened back there?" Daniel changed the subject. "To make you run out like that?"

"Oh." Betty frantically searched for an answer. "It must have been the champagne I drank." Betty answered through a forced smile. "See! Me and your Mom have something in common! We'll both go down as raging boozers on celebrity blogs!"

"You don't drink champagne. It gives you terrible hiccups."

"I did tonight."

Daniel stared her down. "But that's not the reason, is it."

It was more of a statement that a question and Betty felt her heart begin to beat faster; Daniel knew her too well. She decided to stop fighting the inevitable and let him know that she knows he knows. It all sounded very jumbled in her head, and before she could lose her courage she took a deep breath and blurted it out. "I know you know!" She cried out; her voice echoed loudly, startling the stray cat who had still been watching them from its perch. It took off in a streak into the shadows. "About, how I feel—_about you_." She finished, much quieter.

"Oh?" Daniel's eyebrows shot upwards.

"That Christina told you about my, um, _feelings_. And that's why I've been avoiding you and the reason I took off tonight." Betty focused all her attention of the ground. No matter how much easier this was than she thought it would be, the looking at Daniel part was still extremely difficult. The part where he politely turned her down, however, would be devastating. So, she quickly thought of a plan to avoid that humiliation altogether. "But I just want to tell you that it's untrue. Just a big misunderstanding. There are no feelings whatsoever." She lied, looking into his eyes.

Daniel eyed her suspiciously. "Christina did say you had feelings for me." He said slowly. "You're saying that's untrue?"

Betty could see in his eyes that he didn't believe her. "It's…." She stuttered. No matter how much she wanted to avoid it, she knew lying would just make things worse. It was time to really and truly lay it all on the line, face the consequences, and get over it and move on. She owed it to herself. "It's…true." She sighed. "Christina was right."

Daniel's face lit up immediately. "You do have feelings for me?"

Betty was now even more confused. He didn't look nervous—like he was just about to have to let her down easily—but positively giddy. Either he was momentarily flattered and forgot it was Betty, not some fashion model, saying these things or her announcement actually made him happy.

"Yes." Betty felt the weight of carrying around her concealed feelings disappear. She had never said the words out loud, and it felt good to be free of the burden at last. "I love you. I am in love with you." She said forcefully, watching the giddy expression on his face with amazement. Mostly because it was still there. "But," She paused. "I also know that you kissing me that one night was some drunken mistake, and yes, I lied about you spilling a drink on my dress, and avoided you because I was embarrassed over everything." Betty reached out and placed a tentative hand on his shoulder, patting it in a reassuring way. "And I realize this is my problem—these are my feelings I need to deal with. And I will. I will get over this, and you, and we can move on and—_hic_—act like this never happened and—_hic_…." Betty stopped abruptly. The glass of champagne had finally caught up with her, and the hiccups were starting, leaving her unable to get the rest of her words out.

Daniel reached out and grabbed both her arms lightly, sensing her frustration. "Calm down. I know how to get rid of hiccups."

"I'm—_hic_—not—_hic_—standing on my—_hic_—head—_hic_!"

"No, just close your eyes."

Betty was a bit wary, but Daniel gave her an encouraging nod, so she shut her eyes. There was nothing but silence that followed, and she focused on the sound of a police siren in the background. "Daniel—_hic_—what—_hic_—am I supposed to—_hic_—be doing—_hic_?" There was no answer; suddenly Betty felt Daniel cup her chin and bring it forward. "What—_hic_—are you—_hic_…." Betty's eyes flew open, but before she could finish her question, Daniel's lips were pressed against hers and her eyes closed again involuntarily.

It was just like the last time he had kissed her, except there was no five o'clock shadow scratching her face or the stale taste of alcohol. But the softness of his lips, the deepness of his kiss, and the feelings that she felt—and quickly repressed—were exactly the same. And instead of breaking the kiss and running away, she leaned into it and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning on her tip toes to do so. She was even more confused than ever, but she didn't care. This time, she was just going to enjoy it. Daniel grabbed her tighter around the waist and she let out a small moan. Her heart fluttered and she feared that if she wasn't holding onto him, her sudden dizziness would make her crumple to the floor.

When they slowly pulled apart, both breathless and flushed, Betty found her hiccups were indeed gone. But that was the last thing on her mind. She could only think about what had just happened and how Daniel was still smiling at her, looking like her wasn't ready to stop kissing her. "I don't want you to get over me Betty." Daniel said; his arms, which were still encircling her waist, pulled her in closer and he kissed her gently on the tip of her nose. "I am in love with you."

"I, uh, I…" Was all Betty managed to get out. She wondered if this was the good news Christina was trying to tell her—the news she refused to hear—or if it was all just a dream; that she was lying on the floor or the fragrance launch, passed out cold while people gawked and her subconscious was making this all up. So, she reached out and grabbed a hunk of flesh on Daniel's arm.

"Ow!" He winced. "You pinched me! Whadaya do that for?"

"To make sure this is real."

Daniel smiled. "It's real. And if you didn't believe me the last time, let me convince you over, and over, and over again that it's real." He smiled seductively and pulled her closer, leaning down for a kiss.

"Wait!" Betty held her finger up to his lips, stopping him. "You owe me some answers."

"Answers?"

"Yeah. Like, if it wasn't a drunken mistake, why did you kiss me that night?"

"Oh, man." Daniel released Betty from his grip; he ran a hand through his hair and shifted around uncomfortably, stalling for time. After a few moments he spoke. "I was very upset about losing you Betty. First, it was just as an assistant. But, with a little help, I realized that I was really upset about losing you." He smiled and looked into her eyes. "That realization—that I am in love with you—threw me for a loop. I didn't know how to handle it, so in typical Meade fashion I avoided it. With alcohol." He grimaced. "I didn't know you were gonna show up, and I sure as hell didn't know I was gonna kiss you, or that I wasn't going to remember any of it the next day." With that he reached out and grabbed her again, holding her close. "When I was ready to deal with my feelings you were nowhere to be found." He chuckled softly. "And then Christina dropped the bomb and, well, I'm sorry if I hurt you. I'm sorry if I made you feel like you were some drunken mistake, or that you somehow weren't good enough. You are a lot of things Betty Suarez, but you've never been a mistake." Daniel let go of her with one hand and brought it to her cheek. "And I'm pretty sure I'm not good enough for you." Slowly he pulled her in for a kiss.

"I'm sorry," Betty said after the kiss, a bit dazed. "You're gonna have to repeat yourself. I didn't catch anything after _I am in love with you_."

Daniel beamed down at her. "That's all you really need to know."

THE END.


End file.
